The Boy Who I Thought Had Died
by alohomorraa
Summary: You know Harry's thoughts as he pretends to be dead in Hagrid's arms. You know he hears people screaming his name, "No!", or just screaming. Now it's time to know what everybody else was thinking...
1. Minerva McGonagall

**Okay, this is my very first fanfic! I hope you guys like it, and if it isn't that good, constructive criticism is always welcome! And flamers: you can flame, I won't mind, but be warned that I will pay no attention to what you say. And this is supposed to be sad, so if you don't like sad stories, you most likely won't like this one. I hope this is fanfiction-worthy! Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: **Me:I own everything! EVERYTHING!

Harry: Excuse me?

Me: That's right! I OWN you!

Ginny: Ummm...No, you really don't.

Hermione: See how it feels to be told you are someone else's property? SEE HOW IT FEELS! Join S.P.E.W. and we can support house elf rights!

Ron: *face palms* Hermione, nobody is going to join S.P.E.W. Nobody.

Me: All of you are wrong! ALL OF YOU!

Harry: If you want a rant on how nobody owns me, go see Harry Potter Puppet Pals. As for now, get on with the _real_ disclaimer and stop your mental ranting.

Me: Fine, fine, alright! I'll make a boring disclaimer...*sighs* I do not own anything, J.K. Rowling owns everything. There. Now ON WITH THE STORY!

**Chapter 1: Minerva McGonagall **

As I walk through the Great Halls, I see so many students. So many innocent people. I felt shaky and weak. But I must be strong. For the school. For my brave lions. For me. I want to cry, but I let no weakness show. I am the headmistress, and I must be the leader. If I break down, they will break down. So many were wounded, or seriously injured. Many were tending to people's wounds.

I saw Ginerva Weasley caring for a little boy outside. He was very pale. He was crying cold, scared tears. He was whispering something. Ginerva looked so...so... I couldn't describe it. All I could tell was that she was trying to be strong, like me. Poor little Ginerva. Not even of age, and she has witnessed horrible scenes of carnage. People devoid of any hope. People with horrendous injuries. People that have lost their lives. And she had lost her brother! Bless her soul.

I continue my long walk down the seemingly endless Great Hall.

So many sad, mournfull faces... so many tears, so many crying eyes...How can people do this to others? How can people take people's lives, souls, hope, and very essence away, and act so cold, heartless, and cruel, that they're truly just human dementors? I saw Sybill Trelawney, holding a student's hand, patting it. She had tears rolling down her cheeks. Sybill turned over the poor child's hand, tracing her palm.

"Oh, my dear...Oh yes...I see a very bright future for you..a very happy place, very happy...a place where there is never dark clouds..." The child looked up at her.

"Will my mummy be there?"

Sybill forced a smile. "Yes, mummy will be there, child...your mummy will be there...and you will both be very happy."

The girl gave a weak smile...a contented nod...and that was the end of a life that could have been so much more. My throat constricted. I continued my walk.

I see so many faces that were once lively. Many held fond memories in my heart. I remember Nymphadora Tonkss. The spunky and unusual Hufflepuff. I remember she aced my class with flying colors in self-transfiguration. She was very clumsy...always stepped on my tail in my cat form... but all teachers loved her anyway. Remus Lupin, recent husband and father. Kind, responsible Remus that I always knew was the mastermind behind the Marauder's pranks. I remember that I always let him get away with it, pretending I didn't know. Now him _and_ his wife are gone. Who is going to take care of little Teddy?

Oh, Harry. I forgot about Harry. He's Teddy's Godfather, isn't he? Harry will take care of little Teddy. But... where's Harry? I jolted inside. **_Harry!_**

I spun on my heel, and instantly went in the other direction. I had a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach.

_Click, clack, click, clack._

Went my shoes on the marble.

**Ba boom, ba boom, ba boom.**

Went my heart in my chest

_Click clack click clack!_

Faster now, no pauses in between.

**Ba boom ba boom ba boom!**

My heart is pumping blood faster now...

_Click clack click clack!_

Louder, ever louder, a sense of urgency...

**Ba boom ba boom ba boom!**

I started to really feel it. I can hear the buzz in my ears...

_Click Click Click Click Click Click Click Click!_

Very fast now, I think I'm running...I'm not sure...

A new sound is added. My shallow breathing.

In out in out in out in out in out in out!

**Boom Boom Boom Boom Boom Boom Boom Boom!**

_Click Click Click Click Click Click Click Click!_

Another sound is added... one that was all around me, yet within me, pounding in my head every time I _Click_, **Boom**, or In Out...

HARRY...HARRY...HARRY...HARRY...HARRY...

Everything is merging now... I feel dizzy... all these noises I'm hearing... yet I must get to him... Must get to...

**_HARRYINOUTCLICKBOOM_**

**_HARRYINOUTCLICKBOOM_**

**_HARRYINOUTCLICKBOOM_**

**_HAR-_**

I think it all stopped... everything...my Harry's, my feet, my breathing, and my heart. Because That was the moment I saw He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named...and next to him, I saw...I saw...I...saw...

I let out a noise. I'm not sure what it was, exactly.

A wail of despair?

A shriek of shock?

A scream of horror?

Maybe I did all of them at once. All I know is that it was the most horrible sound I have ever made.

Now what did I see, exactly? I saw Harry in Hagrid's arms.

The-Boy-Who-Lived... has died.

**Ok, was it good, bad, or somewhere in the middle? I MUST KNOW! If you let me know, I can fix it, to make it better! And also, my first reviewer that isn't a flame, because you will be my first reviewer _EVER_, I will promote your stories on my profile! And to the rest of you who aren't my first reviewer: Do you see that button down there? I heard that if you click on it and do what it says, many good things will happen to you! How 'bout you find out? Thank you all for reading my first fanfiction!**


	2. Hermione Granger

**Ok, thank you all for reviewing and PM-ing me! I really appreciate the positive feedback and the constructive criticism, you have no idea! Your comments are worth more than gold to me, I promise!**

**Disclaimer: *puts on wig and British accent* I am Joanne Kathleen Rowling, and I own you all! Err... how about a sophisticated spot of tea with a sophisticated crumpet? Umm...Blimey, I'm ravishing...Cheerio?**

**Ginny: How many times do we have to go over this?**

**Ron: She's hopeless, isn't she?**

**Me...I mean Joanne: HEY! That was uncalled fo- I mean...uh...WHAT AMERICAN, WHERE!**

**Luna: I'm afraid that she has too many wrackspurts swarming the maminos in her head. The only cure is Quatford Solution. It's narggle juice with mixed in hinky-punk saliva and-**

**Me: NO MORE! umm...no thank you...I th-think that I-I'd rather make a disclaimer...J.K. owns everything...I don't...**

**Chapter 2: Hermione Granger**

I look at the sobbing red-head I was cradling in my arms. I'm not sure if there's anything I can say to make the pain of Fred's loss go away. So I just settled for rubbing Ron's back in soothing circles. I still wish I could make the hurt go away, though. I was crying, too. I felt the salty tears sliding down my cheek. But I'm ashamed to say that even in the moment at hand, I was a bit pre-occupied with something other than my...my...my _boyfriend_. I didn't let it show, though. Ron needs me right now. But yet I had that voice in the back of my mind...the feeling in the pit of my stomach...

"I-I n-need t-to go wash u-up." Ron said. I can tell that he's embarrassed that he's crying so much. I want to tell him that it's ok to cry in front of me, but I can tell he needs his time alone.

As soon as he leaves, I sit back down on the stairs, elbows on my knees, head in my hands. That voice in the back of my head, the feeling in the pit of my stomach... what does it all mean? All I know is that it has something to do with Harry. Where is he? I need to know that he's safe, that he's ok...

Poor Harry. He feels so guilty all the time, for things that he couldn't have stopped, things that weren't his fault... He felt guilty for Dobby's death, he felt guilty for Cedric's death, he felt guilty for Remus' death, he felt guilty for Tonk's death, he felt guilty for Colin's death, he felt guilty for his parent's death, he felt guilty for Sirius' death, he felt guilty for Fred's death. He feels guilty about this whole war! He feels as if he has the weight of the world on his shoulders, but doesn't he know that he doesn't have to bear it alone? Oh, Harry... crazy, stupid Harry... she has so many memories with him...

_"You'll be fine, Harry. You're a great wizard."_

_"Not as good as you."_

_"Me? Books and cleverness? there are more important things, like friendship, and bravery, and...Oh, Harry, just be careful!"_

_"That felt good."_

_"Nice punch."_

_"Thanks!"_

_"If you're going to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us, too!"_

_"Occulus repairo!"_

_"Thanks!"_

_"You're welcome."_

_"Now what?"_

_"We save Sirius"_

_"How?"_

_"No idea."_

_"There's Pettigrew."_

_"Harry, you can't!"_

_"Hermione, that's the man that betrayed my parents! You don't expect me to just sit here!"_

_"Yes, you must! Harry, you're in Hagrid's hut now. If you go bursting in, you'll think you're mad! Awful things have happened to wizards who have meddled with time. We can't be seen."_

_"You were right, Hermione! It wasn't my dad I saw earlier! It was me! I saw myself conjuring the patronus before! I knew I could do it this time because...well, because I'd already done it! Does that make sense?"_

_"No...But I DON'T LIKE FLYING! AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"_

I chuckled, remembering that. But I still couldn't shake that feeling away...

Then it clicked. Oh Merlin.

Poor Harry. He feels so guilty all the time, for things that he couldn't have stopped, things that weren't his fault...

He feels guilty about this whole war!

He feels as if he has the weight of the world were on his shoulders...

Crazy, stupid Harry...

That voice in the back of my head, the feeling in the pit of my stomach...

Where is he? I need to know that he's safe, that he's ok...

**_Bring me the boy...and this war will be over...bring me the boy..._**

That's when I started running.

I heard Ron come around the corner and ask "Hermione?" But I didn't stop.

Oh, Harry...please let Harry be ok...please...

I ran faster and faster, as if running for my life. But I was truly running for Harry's.

I finally came to an abrupt stop outside.

But I was too late.

"_No!"_

I wasn't aware of anything around me. All I saw is Harry's limp form in Hagrid's arms.

I fell to my knees, eyes still solely focused on Harry. My eyes turned into salty waterfalls, but I made no sound to indicate that I was crying.

"Harry...!" I moaned.

My scream of "_No!"_ echoed around my head.

But my moan of "Harry...!" echoed around my empty heart.


	3. Ronald Weasley

**Hey everybody! Now before I start the chapter, I'd like you all to know that I recently made a poll on my profile, and I need voters! So far, the number of voters I've had so far are...Zero. So much, right? I must have broken a record or something. Whoever votes gets a virtual cookie! You want the cookie, don't you? Yeah, you want the virtual cookie. Come and get it...**

**Disclaimer: Me: Hello. I've decided to be deep and intellectual today. What is the meaning of life? To be or not to be? To have the virtual cookie, or to not have the virtual cookie? I think that I should have the virtual cookie. You should too. *continues rant***

**Harry: Seeing as we have gotten nowhere with her... I am not owned, nor will I ever be owned. But for all of you muggles out there, you may continue to believe that J.K. Rowling owns us, because we do not intend on making a profit out of this. **

**Me: Remember, virtual cookies are very delicious and solve all of your problems. It's a life lesson.**

**Chapter 3: Ronald Weasley**

I couldn't stop crying. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop. Every time I try to, I just see his face...

_The echo of his last laugh, etched upon his face..._

I feel Hermione rubbing my back. It helped. But it didn't stop the tears. I felt her comforting me. I could tell that she wanted to say something. I guess that she didn't understand that just her being here made all the difference in the world. Oh, Hermione. What did I do to deserve such an amazing girlfriend as her? The answer is that I didn't. But I loved her anyway. Sometimes I still can't believe that the girl that I'm in love with, THE Hermione Jean Granger: the girl with brains _and_ beauty, even though I'm always second best against THE Harry Potter, loves me back. I felt her tears on my back. I secretly looked up at her face. She was staring straight ahead, not truly seeing. I could tell that she was thinking about something. I could also tell that at the same time she was trying to be there for me. All of a sudden I felt very embarrassed. She was obviously taking care of me, with no one to take care of her. I was just sobbing in her arms like a child. I decided to go wash up and come back so _I _could comfort _her._

I was alone in the bathroom. I was still crying. I splashed cold water on my face. What was Hermione thinking about? Was it about You-Know-Who? Was it about the Horcruxes? Was it about Harry? Oh Merlin, she's thinking about Harry! I knew she liked Harry better, I knew it! How could I have possibly thought that she liked me instead of famous, rich, brave Harry Potter? Oh, and now she's going to dump me and she's going t-

Stop. Now. It's time for me to trust my friends. Take a deep breath, Ronald Billius Weasley. Get a hold of yourself. Hermione wouldn't pretend that she loved me and then go to Harry to break my heart. Harry wouldn't dare do that to my sister, either, he knows that he would die a slow, painful death if he did. Why would I even think that Harry would do that, anyway? I mean, we're best mates... I've known him since 1st year... so many memories...

I remember when he walked up to us, all alone, and asked us how to get to platform 9 3/4. We went in the train together. Ginny followed. I told him about my brothers and second-hand robes, and he told me about the horrible Dursleys. I remember he bought the entire lot of candy from the trolley, just for us.

I remember in 2nd year, we went inside the Chamber of Secrets to rescue Ginny. The pipe partially caved in, and Harry went in alone, to rescue my little and only sister. He actually came back out alive, and we all flew up with a phoenix, the sorting hat, and a mentally disabled Lockhart.

I remember in 3rd year, after he got his wicked Firebolt from Sirius, he let _me_ ride it before _anyone_ else. Except for him, of course.

I remember in 4th year, me being the git I was, didn't believe him when he said it wasn't him that put his name in the Goblet of Fire. I thought he wanted the fame, the glory, the girls. I thought he didn't want to share it with me. I remember how we fought, and then ignored each other for weeks. I remember he took me back anyway, and didn't rub it in my face that he was right and I was wrong, like Percy, or Fred and George would.

I remember in 5th year, how he was always angry at something. I remember that he didn't want anyone to go with him to save Sirius. But we made him take us, in the end.

I remember in 6th year how he kissed my sister and my world was turned upside down. I remember how he finally told us about the prophecy, and how scared I was for him.

And I remember this year, the year that was supposed to be my 7th. I remember how I walked out on him and Hermione. I remember how much I missed him. I saved him in the lake without a second thought. I knew he would have done the same for me in a heartbeat. I remember how we hugged when we were out of that lake, so happy to see each other again. I felt so relieved that he didn't just punch me in the gut and say "Get lost. We don't want you here." like I thought he would. I remember how he made me destroy the Horcux, Tom Riddle's Locket. He saw my worst fears. How I thought that my own mother would rather have him as a son, and how I thought that Harry and Hermione would live Happily Ever After, and leave me in the dust of their horse-drawn carriage. Harry saw me cry. And he comforted me, assuring me that he loved Hermione like a sister, nothing romantic. Just as a sister.

By the way, where is Harry? I haven't seen him since... since I saw Fred. But he couldn't have listened to You-Know-Who. He couldn't have gone in the Forbidden Forest. Even _I'm _not that thick, and that's saying something. But then remembered...as I was running toward Fred, I saw Harry out of the corner of my eyes. He saw Remus and Tonks...dead... and he had that look in his eye...that guilty, horrified look... and he slowly backed up, and then ran out of the Great Hall.

Oh, Merlin's pants.

I tried to calm myself down. Come on, Ron, Harry's not that thick... no way... not in a million years... And then I saw Hermione, sprinting past me in a blur.

"Hermione?"

But in my heart, I knew it was true. Apparently Harry _was_ that thick. I ran after Hermione as fast as I possibly could. I saw her fall to her knees outside, and I knew, but didn't want to know.

No... NO!

"No!"

I was horrified. I saw Hagrid, but it wasn't Hagrid I was staring at...

It must be polyjuice potion. A self-transfiguration spell. A clone. A fake.

Because it couldn't possibly be what my eyes were seeing, and my brain was saying.

My best mate through all of these years, the one that has always stuck by me, even when I was the World's Biggest Prat, couldn't have possibly left me.

My best friend, who has escaped and defeated him countless times, couldn't have been killed my You-Know-Who.

No. Not You-Know-Who. Voldemort. It's what Harry always said, what Hermione learned to say, and what I must now do for Harry. Voldemort, Voldemort, Voldemort!

Because my brother couldn't possibly be dead.


	4. Ginerva Weasley

**Hello! I hope you all had a very good vacation! Because I didn't. I was stuck at home with bronchitis watching Yo Gabba Gabba with my little sister. I honestly think that this form of torture is worse than the Cruciatus Curse. Also, the number of people who voted on my poll shot up to...2. And to those two people who DID vote: thank you. You will receive your virtual cookie in your dreams. It will taste delicious, I promise. To those of you who DIDN'T vote: No virtual cookie for you! But it's not too late...**

**Disclaimer:**

Me: Hello! *obliviate!* ReaderWriterDreamerGirl7 is J.K. Rowling...I own the entire cast of Harry Potter...

Neville: Hey, has anyone seen Trev- Ahh! *trips on own feet and falls on face*

Me: NEVILLE! You broke my concentration! Now all of those muggles still believe that I'm some psycho with an identity crisis...

Neville: I'm sorry! Just don't tell professor Snape!

Me: I won't! But you forced me to make yet another boring disclaimer... I don't own anything, nor am I a British mastermind...

**Chapter 4: Ginerva Weasley**

"Shhh...it's ok...you'll be home in no time..." I try to say in a soothing voice. I pretend that I'm not scared. But I know I am.

"I want to go home...let me go home..." said the boy I'm caring for. He was pale, and looked very frightened. Scared tears were sliding down his uncolored cheeks.

"You'll be home soon..." I said, my voice cracking. I quickly looked the other way as I dug my fingernails into my hands.

I will not cry... I will not cry...

At first I just felt so hollow, cold and empty inside. As if a dementor had sucked out my soul. I had no emotion. But now it's getting harder and harder not to cry... But I held out, and looked back at the little boy. Back at the steadily increasing pool of red liquid. The unfinished work of Fenrir Greyback. All of a sudden, I heard footsteps behind me. I turned to face Neville Longbottom and Cormack McLaggen.

"We'll take it from here." said Cormack.

I guess he's not such an arrogant jerk after all. Neville took out a stretcher and placed the boy on it.

"Don't worry, Michael. We'll take you back home as soon as we get you all patched up, ok?" Neville assured. The ever-increasing amount of blood in contrast to the pearly white stretcher made me dizzy.

"Are you ok, Ginny?" asked a concerned Neville.

"I'm fine. I just need to sit down inside, that's all." I quickly replied, ever my stubborn self.

I went inside, to the Great Hall. I avoided looking at my mourning family next to Fred. Instead I spotted Colin Creevey, laying down on a bench. Poor little guy, he must be exhausted. I went over.

Should I really be surprised that he wasn't sleeping? I sat down next to his body and held his hand. He was staring, unseeing. I closed his eyes. Then I held his hand. Poor Colin. I imagined his muggle parents back at his home, having no idea that their little boy is no longer in this world. I had good memories with Colin, too.

I remembered how in first year we started a Harry Potter fan club. We met near an old willow next to the lake. Colin would show me the photos he took, and I would, in exchange, tell him about my noticings at the Burrow. We were his stalkers, really. Collin had pictures of Harry eating breakfast, Harry tying his shoe, Harry talking to Ron and Hermione, Harry going to Hagrid's. I would share information like how he naturally wakes up very early, around 5:45, at the slightest noise, and then realises where he is and goes back to sleep. How he always puts his left shoe on first. How he smiles at the slightest thing magical. I remembered how in second year I told him it was stupid, and how i was quitting.

I wished that I never did that to him.

Oh, how Harry would react if he found out that he unknowingly had a _fan-club! _Oh, Harry. I really do love him.

I remember how mum would always tell us stories about The Boy Who Lived, little Harry Potter and his triumph over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. I thought he was some kind of superhero. I developed a celebrity crush.

I remember how I then saw him. His sparkly green eyes, his cute little glasses, his messy black hair. I developed a _major_ crush. I then met him, his slight shyness, his politeness, his kindness. Then it was absolutely official. I was in love with The Boy Who Lived.

But it's not really love, is it? If I loved The Boy Who Lived, I really wasn't even in love. After I finally got over my complete clumsyness and shyness around him, I got to know _Harry_, who was a completely different person that The Boy Who Lived. Harry was much deeper than the one-demention hero that I've heard about in stories.

So that was when I was truly and hopelessly in love with _Harry_. Not The Boy Who Lived, not The Harry Potter, not even Mr. Harry James Potter. I loved _Harry,_ and only _Harry._

So, of course, I completely freaked when I couldn't find him. And then I heard the screams outside. I ran as fast as I could towards where my ears, but mostly my heart, were leading me.

I saw Hermione on her knees, Ron in disbelief, and a horrified Professor McGonagall. I looked to where they were all staring.

"NO! HARRY! HAAAARRRYYY!"

I could say that I was still a whole. That I wasn't just a small fraction of myself. That the other part hadn't died with _him. _I could say that I wasn't broken inside, that my heart, soul, and mind had just snapped. I could say that I didn't cry.

But that would be a lie.


End file.
